


The Origin of Yellow Car

by urcool91



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Verbal Abuse, Yellow Car, hints of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urcool91/pseuds/urcool91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which we learn why Arthur plays yellow car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Origin of Yellow Car

"Here you are, laddie," said Gordon. He kissed Carolyn and brought a plushie out of his suitcase. Little Arthur's eyes lit up and he gave a gummy smile.

"Ye'ow car," he said, pointing. Gordon chuckled.

"Yep. They have yellow cabs in New York. Do you know where New York is?"

"Ye'ow car," said Arthur. "Mine." Gordon handed him the plush taxi.

"Yes, but where-"

"Gordon, don't press him," said Carolyn. "He's only two, after all." Gordon sighed.

"I suppose you're right," he said as he watched his son mouth at the boot. "But he definitely didn't get his brains from  _my_ side of the family." Arthur looked up from the slightly wet car seriously, guageing his parents' voices.

"Ye'ow car," he said happily.

*

"Ye'ow car!" Gordon ground his teeth. Ever since the day he'd brought that bloody taxi home Arthur had carried it everywhere and called out every yellow car he saw from his carseat.

"Ye'ow car!" Carolyn was trying to distract him with a book, but the constant shrieks were still getting to be too much for Gordon. He'd throw the bloody taxy out the window if Arthur said it one more-

"Ye'ow car!" Cordon whirled around, his face plum with rage, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"CAN YOU SHUT THAT SON OF A BITCH UP?" he roared.

The rest of the trip was very, very quiet.

*

"Arthur, we need to talk about-"

"Oh, yellow car!" Gordon growled. "Sorry, Dad. What were you saying?"

"I was  _saying_ that you need to get your grades up if you want to make anything of your life." Arthur was sinking in his seat. "Sit up straight!"

"Sorry, Dad," said Arthur again. "I'll do better next term."

"If you don't pick it up there won't  _be_ a next term," muttered Gordon.

"Come on, Dad, they aren't that bad."

"All Ds except for one C! Do you want to go to college, son, or do you want to live your life as a homeless fuck-up?" Arthur was sliding down again. "Sit up!"

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll do better, maybe ask Mrs. Bosley if I can do an essay or something to get it up. She's really nice like- Yellow car!"

"Aren't you a little old to be playing yellow car?" said Gordon snidely.

"You're never too old to play yellow car!" said the excited eight-year-old.

"If you spent half as much time studying as you did staring out the window you wouldn't be half as much of a little fuck-up as you are," Gordon muttered just loud enough for Arthur to hear. From that moment Arthur decided not to play yellow car ever again... at least, not out loud.

*

Arthur knew that it was coming. Eventually his mum, independant, strong-minded woman that she was, would get tired of being bullied by a fat drunk and just leave. So when she told him to pack some clothes and get in the car he ignored the angry red handprint on her face and did as he was told.

He hugged the faded plushie to his chest and squinted. It was hard to play yellow car at night, even in your head, because of all the headlights and darkness. But despite that he was able to catch the yellow pickup that wooshed past them on their left.

"Mum?" he said.

"Yes?" Her voice was tight and fiercely controlled.

"Can I play yellow car out loud now that Dad's not here?" His mum sighed.

"If you must," she said. In the darkness Arthur beamed.

"Yellow car!"

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that was... depressing.


End file.
